


Hot Mess

by OthilaOdal



Category: Death Note
Genre: Clubbing, Drinking Games, Explicit Sexual Content, Lapdance, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OthilaOdal/pseuds/OthilaOdal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In attempts to decode mafia thug, Rod Ross, Mello finds himself bending over backwards when a drunken night reveals secrets and unravels in unexpected ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Mess

Leaning back in the black leather chair, knees apart, Mello glanced at the glass of scotch sitting on the table before him and was almost consumed by the desire to unzip his vest and pour it onto his chest. He wondered if that would help with the heat and the ache he was internally writhing in. He looked up at the men and women around the table in what was, in his opinion, an overtly private VIP lounge of some club he forgot to note the name of. His eyes fell on Rod Ross and he almost heard the sigh that escaped his lips over the blaring music.

Mello frowned a little. Rod confused him sometimes. He had spent the past 4 months around Rod and his gang, in attempts to warm them up to his presence and to warm them up to the idea of pursuing Kira. And he had most of them in the palm of his hand, not because they were convinced of him but because he had all their weaknesses down. All he needed to do was scare them a little and they’d be his puppets, no problem. Rod was different. He was careful and no matter how hard Mello tried he couldn’t seem to find leverage, no dirt on Rod Ross – well at least not any Mello could use to his advantage.

But it wasn’t just the lack of weak spots that confused Mello. He realized with some people it’d take longer to uncover weak spots. It was something else. Something about the way Rod had looked at him when he’d first met him. It hadn’t been this crowded then. It’d only been him, Rod and a couple of other leaders in important gangs. And the moment Mello had stepped into the dimly lit room, Rod had stopped midsentence to give him a once over with calculating eyes under heavy brows. His undivided attention had made Mello feel naked under his gaze and Mello hadn’t been offended in the least. There had been a heat in his eyes, a warmth, that had excited Mello beyond words.

However, soon after Mello had been introduced to Rod by one of the other men in the room, the warmth seemed to disappear from Rod’s eyes and Mello had spent the rest of the night throwing back the insults Rod sent his way. He couldn’t say that was a bad thing, considering the fact that he got to sit around in a room full of gang leaders and insult one of them for insulting him and he only welcomed that kind of competition whenever it came his way.

But he couldn’t say he cared much for Rod’s tone afterwards. Mello suspected it had a bit to do with the fact that he was the only person in the room that didn’t belong to a gang, let alone be an important member in one, like the rest of them were. However, something told him that Rod’s disappointment had something to do with the bulge in Mello’s pants.

“Wrong set of genitalia.” He’d found himself laughing at the thought. He didn’t care if he got confused for a girl once in a while. It made no difference to his ego but it was a bit of a disappointment that Rod Ross was so heavily offended by the his conflicting physique. “He liked it though. For a second there, he really liked me…..or at least what he saw.”

It bothered him more when time and time again he’d see Rod look at him just the same way as he had when Mello had first walked in, but the second Mello decided to make eyes back at him, Rod took the warmth away and replaced it with the cold shoulder, or worse, mockery.

“What a big baby.” Mello had found himself thinking, deciding that getting into Rod’s gang would be harder than it seemed. So it’d been a tad bit of a surprise when Zakk had called him to say that Rod wanted him to come hang out at a club, four times.

“Fourth time’s a charm.” Mello found himself saying aloud, hoping this time he’d be able to crack open Rod’s thick skull and figure him out but the man had chosen to sit so far away from Mello, that Mello almost wanted to lose hope and just get drunk.

He noticed one of the men, Jack Neylon, place a half full bottle of whiskey beside Mello’s glass, clearing the table out to make a little room for a game of “King and I”. It was Mello’s first time playing but from what he understood it was a game of dares. Cards from one suit were distributed, one for each person, around the table, ace representing one, Jack representing eleven, Queen representing twelve and King representing itself. Whoever ended up with the King card got to dare any number of people to do something together, without knowing who had what number.

As an example Rushall had explained, “Say for example I’m king and I say four and five should make out for ten seconds, then whoever has the numbers four and five has to make out for ten seconds.”

“Or drink?” Mello had asked.

“Well, no.” He’d laughed. “The drinks are just there to make the harder dares easier and lower inhibitions.”

“So it’s not really a drinking game then?” Mello had found himself become increasingly disinterested. It wasn’t a competition, what would it matter if he won or lost?

Rushall had slapped his back and thrown an arm around his small shoulders pulling Mello so close he could smell the grease in Rushall’s hair.

“You’re missing the big picture here, Mello.” He’d said in a voice so low Mello had to strain himself to listen. “There’re six guys in the group including you and me and six girls there’s bound to be a moment when we get to see a couple or more girls get real nasty with each other.”

Mello had nodded, with a smile and a little amusement. But it wasn’t the thought of a couple of girls “getting nasty with each other” that amused him, but the elaborate amount of bullshit five grown men would put themselves through to see that was what made it hard not to crack a smile.

“But what if two guys have end up with the dare?” He’d asked.

“The drinks are to give you the courage to do that, my friend.” Rushall had slapped his back again.

“I wouldn’t need it all that much.” Mello had thought but chose to keep that to himself. Despite that, he had managed to get fairly intoxicated before the game had begun, just because he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of Rod Ross.

Mello wanted to pout and throw a tantrum like a child but he simply slouched a little in his seat and kept two curious blue eyes fixed on the hunk. The game started with Zakk passing around cards. Once everyone had one, Mello pulled his card off the table slowly, glanced at what he had gotten and put it right back on the table, number facing down.

He was a five. He looked around the table as a girl on the far end of the table let out a little squeal and waved her King card in the air. She picked ten and eleven and Mello smirked as Zakk gave him a glance before going up to tall pale brunette to complete his dare.

“At least he’s getting lucky.” Mello thought as he watched Zakk grab the woman’s loose bun and attack her neck.

The game continued and Mello could barely recall how much alcohol he had consumed but his eyelids had gotten heavier and he was sure he had laughed about a dozen times at things he didn’t understand, watched Zakk get luckier when the brunette decided she really liked him refused to get off his lap after a dare and gotten a tad bit lost in the music once in a while.

The dares had gotten worse with time. He had watched Gurren spit vodka down Jack Neylon’s throat and made a face like he had smelt milk that had gone bad ages ago.

He’d often found himself glancing at Rod but the man was too busy flirting with the woman next to him and in time Mello had given up. He’d have been upset but he’d been a little too drunk to care. 

“I got King!” Jack yelled swaying his card in the air. Mello had to smile but he wasn’t quite sure why he was doing so anymore. He glanced at his own card. It had taken a little focusing to read it properly but he’d decided he was a three this time.

“So I, the King,” Jack was shouting by this point and Mello had to wonder whether he was aware of how loud he was. “I want three to give nine a lap dance for twenty seconds.”

Mello felt the drunkenness leave him rather suddenly. He glanced around to check who the number nine had ended up with. No one came forward. Mello licked his lips and revealed his card. He let a little smirk spread on his lips. “Who’s going to get a lap dance?”

No one moved for what seemed like ages to Mello, but his eyes had already reached the one person he knew had to have the card. His calculating beady eyes stared back at Mello. He didn’t say a word, just revealed his card for all to see. 

It was a nice nine and Mello felt his smile spread wider.

He barely felt himself leave the couch. He could feel the music in his veins as he almost stumbled onto the table in attempts to grab the bottle of whiskey Jack had placed next to him earlier. He had able to feel the bass vibrate the very air around him, but not this way, not the way he felt it in his chest as he moved towards Rod, not in his core, not in his hips, like he could now.

He was sure his boots were clacking against the ceramic floor but he heard nothing over the deafening loud music. The music, despite being loud, was slow, hypnotic, sensual and Mello couldn’t help but feel it creep through the vibrations in the floor into his legs, into the rhythm of his footsteps, rising inside him, pouring out of his lips that he tried hard to bite. 

He leaned into Rod when he reached. And when he did the rest of the gang began counting.

Twenty, Nineteen, Eighteen...

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” He asked before turning around and swaying his hips to the music. 

Seventeen, Sixteen, Fifteen…

He wanted to close his eyes and really let go but he felt the rest of the gang’s eyes’ on him and he knew for a fact that they wouldn’t handle extensive knowledge of his sexual preference very well.

Fourteen, Thirteen, Twelve…

“I must still be somewhat sober to think that.” He thought to himself turning around and placing each knee on either side of Rod. He lowered himself into the man’s lap, admiring his rippling muscles.

Eleven, Ten, Nine…

Mello kept his eyes fixed on the man who showed no signs of warming up to his presence. “You don’t have to sit there like a rock.” Mello thought. “Be a good sport. You chose to be here.”

Eight, Seven, Six… 

“oh!” Mello jumped a little, eyes wide when he realized he’d lowered himself too far down and landed right on Rod’s manhood. That however wasn’t as surprising as how hard he’d found it under him.

Five, Four, Three…

“Don’t stop.” Rod said to him. “And if you say a word about this to them…”

Mello cocked a brow, a smile spreading onto his face. So that was the secret he’d been waiting for. Rod Ross gang leader, macho, womanizer, gay. Gay. Gay Gay.

Two, One, Zero…

And a leader of such an important gang in the mafia was no place for a gay man.

Rod roughly pushed Mello off of him and left his seat.

“I’ve had it with these childish games.” He said as he made his way through the room to the door. The rest of them were a tad too drunk to pay him too much mind. 

“He’ll be fine.” Zakk said. “He gets a bit dramatic. But he comes around.”

Mello, however, had a frown on his face. He didn’t care for being treated like dirt. He got up brushed his pants clean and went after the man.

He pushed the doors to the VIP lounge open and the music almost turned him deaf. His eyes followed the man and so did he, around a group of people and into a little quieter passageway leading towards an emergency exit.

“Hey!” He called out. “Wait up!”

The stare Rod gave him when he turned around was chilly but Mello smiled at him anyway. 

“They won’t find out.” He said carefully placing two hands on the man’s chest and felt around his pectorals. He found himself smiling at the thought of the things he wanted Rod to do to him, at the thought of   
scratching his nails against those thick tight muscles. Mello looked up questioningly at Rod. 

“C’mon big baby.” He sang, pouting. “Lighten up.” He let his hands wander south down Rod’s chiseled abs, over his leather belt, metal belt buckle and onto the part that stood demanding attention. “I can take care of this.” He smiled at Rod. “Do you want me to?”

Mello was harshly swung around and slammed against the wall but despite the pain of the impact all he’d noticed was the strength of Rod’s grip as he’d swung Mello around. Mello mentally prepared himself for a beating but that never came to him.

Rod was on his knees before him, hurriedly unbuckling his belt and pulling at the laces at his crotch.

“Not a man of words, are you?” Mello asked stroking Rod’s head but the man said nothing to him.

He’d pulled Mello’s manhood out of its leathery cage and taken it in his hand, swiping a tongue between his lips and parting them to take him in.

Mello pushed his head away.

“Forgetting something?” he asked pulling out a shiny little packet from his back pocket. Mello tore the packet open and handed Rod the rubber sitting inside of it.

He muttered something about not having enough time for that but Mello didn’t care enough about the big whining baby’s problems.

He watched the man gently and carefully roll the condom onto his manhood.

“Anything else, princess?” he said in a mocking tone.

“Just do a good job.” Mello laughed.

He hadn’t needed to ask though. He could tell it’d be a job a well done the second Rod’s lips met his manhood. He threw his head back as the man ran a tongue over his length, rolled it over his tip and then took him into his mouth. His lips were soft around Mello’s manhood and his tongue played over and under it with skill and ease.

Mello felt his eyes roll back into his head. His chest heaved, mouth wide open. His pants fell to the floor.

“Oh yes!” He moaned, running nails over Rod’s shoulder blades.

Rod cupped him and took him entirely into his mouth and out again and then back in, over and over.

The sound of the wetness in his mouth became music to Mello’s ears soon mixing with his own urgent breath and whimpers.

“Yes! Yes! Oh!” He moaned. “Oh give it to me you big baby!” He muttered under his breath, his words barely audible through his gritted teeth. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

Rod’s hand crept between Mello’s legs and between his cheeks. Mello gasped at the feel of Rod’s wet finger on his opening. He bits his lips as Rod continued to attack his manhood.

He could feel himself growing in Rod’s mouth, but the man showed no signs of straining. The pain and pleasure rose inside Mello’s core. He squirmed against the concrete walls, occasionally raking his nails on his  
own skin as though that was going to set him free.

Rod stopped servicing him as suddenly as he’d started and soon the hunk was standing before Mello, sweat beading on his neck and chest. It urged Mello forward and he obliged, kissing the man on his chest and trailing all the way to his jaw.

“Do your worst to me.” He whispered and Rod obliged. He swung Mello around, pressing his chest to the wall.

“Got another one of those?” He asked and Mello gestured towards the leathery lump on the floor that had been on Mello’s legs.

Rod crouched to pull another shiny packet from Mello’s pocket and kissed his way up Mello’s legs when he got back.

“Really know how to make a boy feel special, don’t you?” Mello murmured pushing his hips into Rod’s crotch eagerly. He swayed for a bit to the music that still played in the background while Rod pulled a rubber on. Soon Mello had only his head and forearms to the wall, the rest of him proudly pushed out and legs well apart. “C’mooon!” He whined and the wait was over. 

His eyes grew as wide as his open mouth. His face distorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain as Rod pushed himself inside of him. 

“Eurgh!” A staggered breath left him as he tried not to moan from how tight Rod felt inside of him. His face scrunched up and he bit his lip hard as Rod continued to ease himself into Mello.   
He stroked Mello’s hair and kissed his shoulder. Mello shot a smile at him in return. He took Rod’s hand and pulled him closer.

“Do your worst to me.” He repeated.

Rod moved in and out of him, slowly increasing pace and ran a large hand over Mello’s petite chest. His thumb ran over Mello’s nipple sending tingles over his chest, forcing him to moan.

Pleased, Rod rubbed a thumb over his nipple over and over, pinching it occasionally while he slapped against Mello’s behind.

His pace was faster now and it felt a lot easier to have him move in and out of him, but it did nothing to decrease the pleasure and Mello found himself moaning into a wall until Rod pulled his arms and twisted them behind his back making Mello’s back arch painfully. Yet somehow he found it more exciting.

Rod reached forward and took Mello’s manhood in his hand, still restraining Mello’s arms behind his back with his other hand. Mello found it impossible not to moan as Rod’s hand pumped at him, running a thumb over his head every now and then. Rod thrust harder and harder into him, to the point where Mello’s moans were violently cut every time Rod’s body hit hard against him.

Rod was something of a multi-tasker and Mello had to admit he liked that. He dribbled Mello’s neck with wet kisses while violently hammering against and stroking him. He bit at Mello’s neck and his ear until Mello let out a little scream.

Rod suddenly let Mello’s arms go, bending him over and grabbing his hip with one hand while reaching around to stroke him with the other. He thrashed harder against him now, hard enough that Mello could feel their bones meet painfully against each other’s but he didn’t mind even if it left a bruises on his behind.

“Ah! Fuck yeaa!” He moaned at the floor. His blonde hair swayed about his face, stinging him in the eye. His rosary violently swayed and twice hit him on his nose but it all added to the pleasure. Rod slapped him hard against one cheek and Mello felt the pleasure swell twice the size it had been and erupt out of him as a loud moan left him.

Rod tensed up behind him, forcing down a moan and slapping Mello’s hips hard against him until he finally relaxed and let Mello go from his Iron grip.

Mello stumbled forward. His legs shuddered and buckled under him. He leaned against the wall and turned around to find Rod pulling the condom off his manhood, drenched in sweat that laced his skin like diamonds. He knew he was drenched in the same too because he could feel his now shabby hair stick to his face in places and his nape felt insanely hot.

“So,” Mello panted, watching Rod pull his pants on. “Does this mean I get to hang out with you a lot more?” He smiled despite barely having the energy to stand.

Rod leaned in to kiss Mello’s lips. His lips were large, his tongue invasive, violent, curious, wet. Mello pursed his lips as Rod’s tongue left his mouth. “Do you really think it was Zakk that invited you to hang out with us those four times?” He asked and without waiting for an answer turned to leave.

Mello was still panting against the wall, barely able to stand on his own feet. He didn’t have the energy to run after the man or call after him. He just watched him leave with a smile on his face.

He stumbled to reach his pants and raised them to his waist pulling the condom off his manhood and lacing himself up.

He felt stretched and crushed, free and restrained, in pleasure and in pain all at the same time. But he hadn’t felt this alive since he’d left Wammy’s.


End file.
